O Rose, Thou Art Sick

The roses I bought Tess on Valentine's Day are looking decidedly past their best. I've been feeling equally jaded today - the excitement of Yeovil winning yesterday must have been too much for me!


The Sick Rose

O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

By William Blake